An Invitation to Unveil the Ordinary
Each image, a window into a soul. Each story, a verse in the grand poem of humanity.
There are lines that intertwine your eyes
there is a void between starts
there are words between our mouths
there is a void between starts
there are words between our mouths
there is space in a cramped house
bits of heaven in this muddy ground
you spoke a piece into my puzzled life
you held my hand when there was just a crowd.
Now I see everything through
It makes sense just for me and you.
Will raised a duck of 21 feathers
How many adventures were hatched per day?
The math of your imagination is proportional to the heart of the child
you’re carrying.
How many adventures were hatched per day?
The math of your imagination is proportional to the heart of the child
you’re carrying.
“Young people from an outland came to my office today with an enigma for me to solve, which ultimately would lead me to a treasure. I kept following all the clues and finally was able to open the reward. To my surprise, it was a story! It was there, alone by itself, with gracious eyes fixed upon me. The story held a message that claimed to be able to take off any chains. I know, it is hard to believe in such words. For a long time, I thought I was the one holding the keys to freedom.”
I was a geographer once
and at work, tried to put together every bit of this soil.
My boundaries would always stretch beyond where they supposed to be.
I worked hard
to reach the world.
I pressed my compass.
I laminated the seconds.
I spun in my haste.
I rotated and translated all at once.
I collected maps
and studied the whole globe over and over.
The earth and its diversity had come under my scope
I attempted to be God
and lost my own soul.
Life zoomed in on me as through
a microscope
I tried to take a breath once more
and there I was
in the heart of this world
alone as a vagabond
with no career or title
I was just a heart woven in bones
“What special gift do I have to continue exploring this place?”
Then, the only word I heard was: “Grace!”
The cosmos reconfigured my plataform.
The Creator’s geography silenced me.
and at work, tried to put together every bit of this soil.
My boundaries would always stretch beyond where they supposed to be.
I worked hard
to reach the world.
I pressed my compass.
I laminated the seconds.
I spun in my haste.
I rotated and translated all at once.
I collected maps
and studied the whole globe over and over.
The earth and its diversity had come under my scope
I attempted to be God
and lost my own soul.
Life zoomed in on me as through
a microscope
I tried to take a breath once more
and there I was
in the heart of this world
alone as a vagabond
with no career or title
I was just a heart woven in bones
“What special gift do I have to continue exploring this place?”
Then, the only word I heard was: “Grace!”
The cosmos reconfigured my plataform.
The Creator’s geography silenced me.
There on the earth landed an astronaut
he came from a womb
his spirit in a word.
I searched for him in birth certificates
but he got lost in my thoughts.
The coordinates were precise: negative to my flaws, positive to his love.
they’d say, “You made him up, old man”
“He made me all”, I’d respond.
I grasped gravity and lost it all
I orbited in the space
among the stars I was
his hand held mine
I was never again the same.
he came from a womb
his spirit in a word.
I searched for him in birth certificates
but he got lost in my thoughts.
The coordinates were precise: negative to my flaws, positive to his love.
they’d say, “You made him up, old man”
“He made me all”, I’d respond.
I grasped gravity and lost it all
I orbited in the space
among the stars I was
his hand held mine
I was never again the same.
The magnitude of life is unveiled when you gaze at the horizon,
your imagination might expand to that of a child’s.
Those treasures hidden in the ordinary have a great potential
to ablaze your heart
with indescribable beauty.
The matter of the ordinary is a mystery of tangential revelation.
your imagination might expand to that of a child’s.
Those treasures hidden in the ordinary have a great potential
to ablaze your heart
with indescribable beauty.
The matter of the ordinary is a mystery of tangential revelation.
“There is a lot going on around.
I hope the city colors will not overshadow my smile
because I’ve been holding the sunrise in it,
and I’m desperate to share it with someone.”
I hope the city colors will not overshadow my smile
because I’ve been holding the sunrise in it,
and I’m desperate to share it with someone.”
And I, who tried to play the sailor. Then, took the curve of the wind, dug the waters of March with a hoe, and started to raise the sail with an open chest, in a loose sail style. On the deck, I was trying to see what the nautical charts were telling me. Then, a riverside man, who didn’t even know how to read, translated everything for me, as people from Brazil’s open-market-neighborhood, who are masters in explaining those complicated paths through alleys and villas.
And so in this way, I went on to explore oceans.
I reaped deep longings. I wanted to stretch the days by horizons. The storms terrified me. But then I’d get reminded that those who are at peace with God, have peace within themselves. And so I let the stars behind the clouds sing my hopes. And, in this way, I’d quickly fall asleep.
From one of my ribs a woman became. One of those that we marry and have kids with. I, then, tied my boat in a harbor and became a fisherman. One of those who only catches big fish. Big fish like people. It was all a bit complicated at times. But Good Lord would untangle my nets. And I live like that to this day. Full of blisters on my hands, I keep on going. I’m full of longing for ones I haven’t seen anymore or haven’t even met yet. I’m full of love for those who are near. I’m full of hope for those who are afar. I’m just sea in these deep waters of an amateur sailor.
Words had touched my mouth
mountains climbed my chaos
oceans flooded my eyes
darkness voided a light
I was just a child amidst their shouts
I was a stranger in my own house
mountains climbed my chaos
oceans flooded my eyes
darkness voided a light
I was just a child amidst their shouts
I was a stranger in my own house
however, that’s not my only line
these are just memories intertwined
for I am beyond this universe
the cosmos has grasped me
I was unveiled by a new law of gravity
crowned with a mystery
held by a king
who bought me when I was sold into slavery.
I am now seen by stars
celebrated by the wild
quoted by unknowns
diving in oceans of dry lands.
“She stretched her eyes into mine,
I got colorblind by her unexpected horizons.
Life flew towards me as that strong wind from the south,
butterflies are now in my belly.
I have seen love coming into bones.”
I got colorblind by her unexpected horizons.
Life flew towards me as that strong wind from the south,
butterflies are now in my belly.
I have seen love coming into bones.”
Each morning when I open my river world
I find some golden lights
from this window sky.
I feel like this river-treasure-box is full of gold.
Shining golden rays come in my direction
but as soon as I dive in these waters
everything becomes shy.
Rays of light escape my eyes
but then, right then, they run to my heart as it would be a secret hiding place.
“They tend to connect with the unseen”, told me today this little crab.
Small creatures tend to insist on explaining great things to me
but people here say it is just fishermen’s tall tales.
I find some golden lights
from this window sky.
I feel like this river-treasure-box is full of gold.
Shining golden rays come in my direction
but as soon as I dive in these waters
everything becomes shy.
Rays of light escape my eyes
but then, right then, they run to my heart as it would be a secret hiding place.
“They tend to connect with the unseen”, told me today this little crab.
Small creatures tend to insist on explaining great things to me
but people here say it is just fishermen’s tall tales.
The Project
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean
The Project
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean